


Power Over Power

by PiscesPenName



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Sex, Shameless Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 18:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10314875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: No plot. Just an excuse for some naughty Dean.





	

 

 

 

The minute she caught sight of Dean Winchester, she couldn't look away. Six feet of him. gorgeous green eyes, tousled short dark hair, those lips. Full, perfect lips-- a roguish smile, cocky swagger, all false bravado.

She wanted him.

When he started to drop innuendo at her, she wanted him more.

"Big boy, you couldn't handle me." She tipped her head back with a challenging gaze.

There was that cocky smile again. "Wanna make a bet?"

She took a sip of her drink, eyed him over the rim. "I like to be in charge."

"That's awesome, cause I like a woman who knows what she wants."

"I wanna slap that ass." She raised an eyebrow.

He looked a little surprised at her forwardness but it turned to curiosity and she knew he was game.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean's face betrayed a wave of panic as she unbuckled his belt. She spoke reassuringly as she tugged down his pants. "Nervous?"

He shook his head. "Nah."

"You seem nervous."

"Baby, you can throw me into any position you want. I'll do it."

"Oh really." She paused. "You okay with me taking charge?"

He laced his hand behind his head and grinned. "Yes m'am."

"Well then." She left his pants around his knees, straddled his thighs, then slid herself lower and kissed around his hip bone. Dean's eyes shut and he took a deep breath.

"Feel good?"

"Yeah." He put a hand in her hair. She moved down a little and kissed the front of his naked thigh, tongue moving over the bit of hair there.

He tipped his head back into the mattress and undulated his hip. She kept kissing higher and just slightly to the inside of his thigh. Dean bit his lip, craned his head to watch her, his hand tightening fractionally in her hair. She sucked a spot there softly at first, then with more force until it was certain he was going to have a hickey in the morning.

"Roll over," she said, getting off him.

Dean's eyes opened in surprise and he let go of her hair. "Huh?"

"You said any position I want. Roll over."

He blinked and turned, adjusting himself with his hand. She started kissing the back of his thigh almost before he was done. He paused his hand still under him, tightening his hold on himself with a groan. She trailed kisses up his thigh until she was at the crease where his buttocks began and dragged her tongue there.

The feel off it surprised him and he gasped.

She batted at his arm. "Take your hand off yourself."

"Okay, bossy." Dean responded with amusement.

She kissed over the soft curve of his ass cheek. His muscle flexed under her. He shifted, stretched out like a cat. "That feels nice, sweetheart."

Her hand wedged in between his thighs as she busied her mouth and Dean jumped in shock. "Let me take control." She whispered.

He nodded, breathing harder, grinding into the mattress a little. She moved her body over the curve of his ass, making sure to drag her skin over him until she pulled up the back of his shirt and planted kisses along his lower back.

Dean had gone relatively still, focused on the waves of pleasure and surprise that rolled over him. Her hands traced up his sides and back down as her tongue swirled into the dimple just above his ass.

"Jesus Christ, who taught you this."

"Wasn't Jesus. Now shhh." She whispered into his back. He started to turn and she shoved him back down onto his stomach.

The air went out of him in a woof.

His belt made a shucking sound as she slid it free. He swallowed. She doubled it over and gave it a snap. Dean's stomach tightened, associating the sound with his father having had enough of his bullshit as a kid. She gave it a testing tap against his backside. "Still okay with me taking charge?" She purred, pressing down on his low back with her free hand.

Dean took a deep even breath through his nose. He nodded.

She tapped it again, watching his ass tighten at the feel of it. "You ever done this?"

"No." His voice was deep.

She snapped the belt across his ass. He made a repressed involuntary groan. She landed another blow and he took it silently. The third had him tightening his hands in the bed sheets. The fourth had him holding his breath, pressing his face into the mattress. She did it again. Dean's body tensed. "Come on." She whispered, landing the blow on the underside, closer to his thigh.

He made a moan, shifting. "I don't...think I like this."

She stopped, rubbed a hand over the redness to soothe the sting. "Need me to stop?"

His breathing hitched a little as he pondered and shifted himself. His bulk gorgeous in the lamplight. Broad shoulders in flannel, his muscled ass bare to her, his powerful legs tangled in the crumpled fabric of his jeans.

"Can't handle it this rough?" She asked, a little challenge to the tone.

He snorted. "I can handle it as rough as you want it, baby." He answered defiantly.

She put her hand in his hair, gripped it tight and pulled his head back a little. His jaw tightened.

"You sure?" She asked in his ear.

The crows feet appeared around his eyes as he narrowed them. "Yeah."

"I'm not going to do it if you don't want."

"Do you want to?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Do it." He said resolutely.

She brought the belt against him with twice the force. Landing a few blows in a row. He grunted. She put it aside and started in with her hand. Blow after blow peppering his ass jolting his groin with each hit. His shoulders tightened. His thighs drawing together. His breath grew faster. "Good boy," she whispered. "Let it go."

Dean's face was growing red, and he huffed out a few breaths, gritting his teeth, finally whimpering as she hit him.

"Good boy." She gave him a minute, her hand on his ass. She gave a squeeze and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “The thing about having me behind you like this," she whispered, watching what little she could see of his expression with his head turned "is that you can't tell what I'm going to do." Her tongue found the shell of his ear.

He groaned.

"Is that a good sound, Dean?"

"Yeah." He whispered.

"You like me in charge?"

"Yeah."

Her hand wedged between his legs and cupped his balls. He startled with a gasp and his hips rose off the bed. "Nnng."

She gently ever so gently squeezed and ground her hand up against him.

The breath startled out of him. "Fuck."

"You like that?"

"Yeah, yeah. Touch me."

She pressed her thumb against his perineum, gently wiggled it back and forth, searching. She found a small firm area in back of his balls, moved behind that and grazed something that made him cry out. He buried his head in the pillow for a moment. She pressed again, rhythmically. Once, twice, three times, could feel Dean's entire body coiling with it. She kept it up, firm but gentle as he grabbed the sheets, his fist white from tension.

"Oh god." He whispered, his legs opening instinctively to give her better access.

He pressed his cheek into the mattress, his face flushed.

She leaned onto his back with her full weight, her breasts pressed against him as she kept exploring with her fingers. His breathing hitched and he was making broken whimpers. She pushed deeper and his hips bucked in response, a ripple running through the the muscles of his back as his abdomen tensed in a spasm.

"Feel that, baby?" She asked, grinning wickedly as she felt him move and come apart beneath her.

His didn't answer, but he was out of breath and taking panting gasps through his open mouth. She pressed up and his entire body tensed, his mouth open, eyes squeezed shut with shocked pleasure and he stopped breathing all together. She placed her lips against his earlobe, feeling him taut and strung like a bow beneath her body. "Come on." She whispered to him. "Come on, Dean." She grazed her teeth against the back of his neck, his damp hair tickling her nose. He'd broken out into a sweat, salty beneath her lips.

He finally drew in a loud gasp and she felt him arch his back up with a cry that was closer to an actual SOB than a moan.

She didn't stop massaging into his prostate and his hips stuttered as he ground himself into the mattress and jumped erratically. She tangled her free hand in the back of his hair, trying to get a handful but it was too short, so she just pushed her fingers against his scalp before trailing it down his neck and onto his half buttoned plaid shirt now completely askew. She tugged it off his shoulder, grabbed one of his forearms and prised his grip loose from the sheets, pulled it forcefully behind his back. Dean's legs snapped shut around her right hand and he was suddenly sobbing for breath, twisting underneath her, bucking, straining...and then it stopped in a breath suspended almost violently as he spilled himself into the sheets beneath his stomach.

She felt his entire body go slack, almost like had lost consciousness. She let his arm go, sat up astride his bare ass and pulled her other hand away from his balls, shaking out her arm to get feeling back. She could see the pulse hammering in his neck as he turned his head slightly, his gorgeous jawline relaxing. She kissed his one bare shoulder tenderly. "Good boy."

He made a sad sound. And she brushed the hair back from his temple and kissed it. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, still panting.

She plastered herself to his back making soothing noises, nuzzling his soft dark hair. He smelled so good. Like shampoo and wooodsmoke, she listened to his breaths as he slowly came down. She could sense that he wanted to move and she unstraddled him. He rolled onto his back, chest moving with his inhale and exhale. Eyelashes fluttering against the high cheekbones. His tongue flicked against the back of his teeth under the perfect bow of his top lip.

His chest was damp like the rest of him and his belly was wet with his ejaculation. For some reason it made her feel tender toward him. He opened his green eyes, unfocused, vulnerable. She kissed his lips but he didn't respond, just pushed a hand through his sweat soaked bangs and tried to sit up. He almost couldn't, weak and exhausted. He gave up.

"Dean," she said softly.

"Yeah." His voice was raspy and deep.

She laid down beside him, her head on his chest. After a moment he took her hand resting against him and kissed the back of it with tender appreciation. She nuzzled into him. He reached down to pull up his pants.

"What was that?" he asked.

She kissed his jaw. "That was your prostate."

"I thought I was gonna black out." His legs were still trembling. He was having trouble maneuvering himself to pull his jeans back up.

She stopped him. "Leave them down. You look so handsome like this."

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

He took another deep breath. They were coming slower now. He was beautiful somehow, his flannel shirt rumpled and askew, hanging off the broad lines of one bare shoulder. His skin glistening with his sweat, taut belly moving as he breathed. His erection lower than half mast now. His pants and briefs still caught around his knees. Disheveled handsome power. That she'd just brought to the edge of tears. That she'd made come apart completely under her hand. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world, having power over that power.

"That was amazing, sweetheart." He ran a hand through his hair and rolled to sitting, stood up, adjusted himself and pulled his pants up. He searched around for his belt before he found it discarded at the foot of the bed. He was moving a bit stiffly and she guessed he was going to be sore later.

He seemed a little subdued. A man embarrassed on some level that a woman dominated him. It was a lot to process emotionally and she could see Dean doing that. He turned around, slid onto the bed and grabbed her in a deep languid kiss. "Your turn."

She smiled, pushed back away from his chest a little. "This was good enough for me."

"But you didn't have any fun."

"I had a lot of fun, trust me."

"I want to touch you." He pushed.

She giggled. "You want to get back at me."

"Maybe..." he grinned slyly.

"No getting back at me."

He toppled her over backward, ignoring her protest, playfully touched his nose to hers, while she lay pinned beneath him. "Come on, baby." He said softly. "Come on." His voice was low and mellow. He kissed the side of her neck. '"You want me to. You know you do." He nipped a little at the skin there.

"I thought I tired you out."

"You did. Kinda. Never tired out when a woman needs me."

"I don't need you."

He kissed the juncture of her shoulder. "Yes, you do."

He was one of those men who wasn't going to be happy unless she had an orgasm.

"I don't..." she began as he slipped his leg in between hers and he climbed on top and lowered himself partly on her. "Dean..."

He kissed her collar bone, his hair tickling her chin. Then he was over her again, grinding into her with his thigh. "Dean..." she protested.

He kept it up, moving over her rhythmically, his thigh pressed against her. She gasped as he found a spot she liked and kept at it.

She reached down and grabbed a handful of his ass and he groaned and stuttered. So he was sore from earlier. He regained his rhythm pushing against her. She could feel the heat building within, the instinct to want to grind herself back against his thigh. Her body arched underneath his. "Dean," she panted.

He kept it up, his body sliding over hers. He grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head, his leg brushing against her with every movement. She closed her legs around the power of his thigh. "Come on, baby." He urged

And suddenly she was crying out underneath him. She felt him close his eyes with satisfaction at the sound and his leg stilled. He smiled above her. "Better?"

"Get off, you jerk." She said with a giggle.

He rolled off of her, hissed as his ass hit the bed.

"You're going to be sore." She said.

"Worth it." He replied. "Totally worth it".


End file.
